Looks Like a Girl, But She's a Flame
by EkoCentric
Summary: A collection of snippet tells an unfortunate event centred around my OC-Ena, a street kid who possesses an unhealthy admiration for explosive things and poisons. This is my first fan fiction, hope you'll be kind to me. A companion illustration is on my dA account, you can check it out through the link on my profile page. Rate T for language.
1. An Unexpected Intruder

**Thank you FenZev for your kindness and betaing!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**An Unexpected Intruder**

Even before Fenris entered his mansion, a horrid burnt smell began filling his nostrils. He slowly stepped into the foyer, quietly drew his greatsword, and immediately fell into a combat stance. The elf grimaced when he saw the main hall was suffused with black thin smoke; this might be a trap to lure him into an obscure space while his attackers, possibly slavers, waited in ambush.

For all of his long years of escape, he'd never seen such trick from slavers before - after all they were not widely known for their brainpower, crude as their methods were. Fenris tightened his grip on the hilt and followed the direction where smoke and smell were strongest, which led him to the kitchen. This manoeuvre was getting weirder and weirder; perhaps his consecutive escapes might have driven these particular slavers half crazy? The door to the kitchen was wide open, so Fenris carefully hid behind the doorframe and peered through a layer of thick smoke, preparing himself for a fight. However, what laid before his eyes left him absolutely flabbergasted. He sheathed his weapon and calmed himself, now knowing that the situation was not as deadly as he suspected.

Or he might be entirely wrong, since "luck" would never be his middle name.

"What are you doing here, Ena?"

His question startled the intruder. The redheaded girl turned around and gave him a bright smile, but she didn't bother to stop whatever she was doing. "Oh, hi Fenris! I'm making a firebomb. Found a recipe for this very wicked potion a few days ago. It's nearly done now though, won't be long."

Fenris walked into the kitchen, and taking a closer look, he could see that Ena's face was not only covered with smoke stains, but some of her short hair had been singed. "That explains the smoke and smell, but what are you doing _here,_ in my house?"

Ena looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "Well, my house is made of wood and you know that wood is highly flammable material, right? I can't set my house on fire now, can I?"

Fenris let out a soft grunt and crossed his arms. "So, you just let yourself leisurely into my house instead?"

Ena snorted. "Don't be absurd, of course not. Jonah let me in," the girl said, finishing the answer with her most cheeky grin.

"Jonah?" If Fenris' brows were not raised and nearly varnish to his hairline before, now they surely were.

"That corpse in your hall. Not at all a chatty chap, that one."

Her explanation caused him a heavy sigh and a rub at his temple. Great, now she named the bloody corpse as well. Today was proving to be absolutely wearisome. Hawke had asked him for his help with a job on the Wounded Coast earlier that morning, and now this. It wouldn't have been so bad if that scruffy _mage_ didn't tag along. Varric's inane probing was just _mildly_ insufferable, but that abomination...

Fenris closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he saw Ena raising a round vial containing a bubbling fiery red thick liquid. There was a narrow line of a burn on her forearm, but she seemed oblivious to her injury. Grinning at him, Ena gave one of the vials a gentle shake. She let out a snigger when she caught an alarming look on Fenris' face. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe, as long as you don't drop it on a hard surface."

"How very reassuring." Fenris snorted, but his eyebrows were still pulled tight, and his gaze never left the offending object in Ena's hand. She began to fill other vials with the explosive liquid, a thin vapour floating from the uncorked ones. The girl gave him a jolt when she suddenly thrusted one of the filled vials in front of his face.

"Here, you can have one, or two, or three, or as many as you like. I made quite a lot," Ena said with a laugh, as if they were discussing having tea and a biscuit.

"I am a warrior. I don't need your nefarious rogue tricks." He grumbled and took a tiny step away from the vial.

Ena didn't notice his hostile stance, or maybe this petite human girl was making fun of him? "Come on! If you use a firebomb, then you have something to outdo Anders when he throws his fireball magic. It'll be fun!" As she spoke, she was waving more vials with the horrid liquid sloshing dangerously in her hand.

"I do not _need _to compete with that _abomination_," Fenris growled menacingly, and thankfully that was enough warning for her to give up and put the vial down.

"Alright, alright," she conceded. "No competing with mages, I get it. No need to get your knickers in a twist, Fenris." She wrinkled her nose at him and shrugged his offence off with ease.

When all the innocent-looking glass vials were filled and transformed into deadly firebombs, Ena started packing them away and began cleaning up her mess. The tabletop was spotted with burns here and there, not that Fenris minded since he barely used this part of the mansion. Even though Ena didn't ask for his help, he found himself helping her with the clean up. They chatted away merrily while they were working - well, it was Ena who did most of the talking, while Fenris randomly offered a short response or a grunt.

When they were finished, the warrior and the rogue wrapped up their chat as Fenris saw her to the door. He was already planning on retreating to his bedroom, having a long bath, and opening a bottle or two of wine, when suddenly Ena drew up short just before she left the mansion and turned to face him, her expression serious.

"Oh, one more thing! Can I grow Rashvine Nettle in your garden too? I want to make a dispel poison, and can't find it at any bloody herbalist stalls here. Massive thanks!" With that, she waved her good bye and stepped out into bustling Hightown before he could formulate any response.

"_Fentis bei umo canavarum_!"

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><p><strong>Note: A pronunciation of Ena is "ey + nit" (the feminine of the name Aidan meaning "little fire.")<strong>

****The title of the story is a lyric from Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys.****


	2. Fluorescent Adolescent

**Guess what? The story's not finished! It's absolutely true when they say your characters just won't keep quiet about themselves. So here we are being harassed by my lovely Little Fire again! The idea of this chapter popped out from a sketch of Ena and Isabela I sketched earlier (on my dA account, of course) and tied with Isabela's Codex Entry: After the Deep Roads for the second half of the plot.  
>Hope you dear readers will bear with me (again). I appreciate all your reviews, favourites and followings!<br>A massive thanks to Fenzev for her wonderful sympathy, patience and sharpness in being my beta reader.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**Fluorescent Adolescent**

"Isabela! I look stupid!" An anxious voice called out from behind a folding screen in Isabela's private suite. "I can't even breathe in this f-"

"Nonsense, that lovely corset's made of genuine Antivan leather," the pirate queen interjected dismissively. "It's the definition of sexiness! So come out already!" she shouted back.

Ena stepped out from behind the screen in a huff. That said Antivan leather corset, though it looked wonderful and finely crafted, barely covered her upper part. While it wrapped around her torso, _very tightly_, it left her shoulders exposed, and displayed a glimpse of her cleavage.

The mischievous grin on Isabela's face made Ena feel even more uncomfortable. The curvy pirate stood up from the foot of her bed and walked slowly towards Ena. "There, now, it's not that hard, is it?" Isabela pulled the smaller woman to stand in front of the mirror. "Come on! You should look more happy wearing this sovereign's worth outfit." She pinched Ena's cheek playfully.

The redheaded rogue swatted her hand away. "Funny, it should have more materials on it though, for what it costs," Ena grumbled. "Well Isabela? Are you happy now? Can I go back to wearing _proper _clothes?"

"Oh sweet thing," Isabela purred. "Where would be the fun in that?"

The laugh that accompanied her question did not sound funny to Ena in the slightest. She rubbed her forehead. "Why did I agree to this?" Certainly this was not one of her brightest decisions, allowing the former captain to decide the consequence for losing their card game earlier.

"Firstly, you already lost all of your coins to me, and second, I'm _bored_," Isabela grinned wickedly. "Come on, let's go downstairs and see if you _really_ look stupid."

"I hate you."

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><p>The perk of being a smaller person was that people barely noticed her, which benefited Ena's choice of living as a rogue (Ena preferred this word rather than thief, as she did not merely steal people's belongings. But when she did it, she was quite sure that she did it very stylishly). When Ena appeared as scantily clad as Isabela, nonetheless less curvaceous, (which, she admitted lamely, struck her self-conscious about her body quite strongly), and felt the weight of every eye in the Hanged Man staring at them, she had never wish for the earth to open up and swallow her down on the spot. Or maybe get struck by lighting? Anything the Maker could do to prevent her from this embarrassment. The distance between the stairs and the bar had never seemed so far, and if Isabela was aware of her edginess, that wench had paid no mind. In contrast to Ena's apprehensive stride, Isabela took as much time as possible to stroll around, winking at everyone in the tavern.<p>

"Andraste's great flaming ass! Rivaini, have you grown your younger version counterpart?"

A sudden remark from the table at the corner made both their heads whip around to the source of the familiar voice. Varric wasted no time as he retrieved his notebook out of his jacket right before both women walked up to him.

"Are you calling me old, Varric?" Isabela raised a brow , though she didn't seem offended or angry.

"She is truly younger than you, so it's not an insult," Varric retorted. "Now tell me everything, this I have to hear." The dwarf swapped his gaze back and forth between the dark skinned woman and the little redheaded girl. Ena shifted on her feet, blushing slightly.

"Isabela thought it'd be an excellent idea to have me dress like one of the Blooming Rose girls so that she wouldn't be the only one called a whore. Though I do find it a bit strange, because even the Blooming Rose girls don't dress indecently in public," Ena responded hotly. She wouldn't have been this twitchy if Varric was the only one seated at the table. No, the Maker had the worst sense of humour, because all of her companions were there, well, except the Guard Captain Aveline. She tried to avoid everyone's eyes, but couldn't help hearing Merrill squeal. "Oh Ena! But you look lovely!"

Isabela laughed. "Relax duckling, no one would ever call you a whore, trust me. That term applies only to a _real _woman," she finished with a lopsided grin.

Ena narrowed her eyes angrily at the pirate.

"Oooh I sense a cat fight!" Anders cheered, which earned him a disapproving grunt and a scowl from Fenris. Varric disengaged himself from the conversation and scribed rapidly into his notebook.

"Anders, shut up," Hawke hissed.

"Play nice girls, and don't worry, Aveline is not here to call any of you by that term," the mage offered helpfully, but it was too late.

The two women stared at each other and started throwing insults. Ena crossed her arms and lifted up her chin defiantly. "At least I still have many many _many_ years to be called that!"

"Said the girl who barely fit into the smallest corset ever made," Isabela scoffed mockingly.

"Unlike you, without that stupid thing you call a dress to lift your tits up. I bet them'd sag down to your knees!'

"They wouldn't! You take that back, you tiny c-"

"Oi! Stop it, will you?!" Hawke interrupted forcefully.

Both of them stopped attacking each other with verbal assaults, but then Isabela's eyes sparked a roguish gleam, and without a word, twin daggers were drawn from her back.

"You know, sweet thing, there's only one way to settle it." Isabela whirled the twin blades casually, to which Ena echoed with the same motion.

"Bring it on, slag."

The rest of the table held their breath while Hawke was hiding her face behind both hands. "No, not again."

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><p>"What happened here?!" Aveline demanded.<p>

"Looks like they were arguing over who's best to get called a whore or something, then everybody got on a fight," one of the Hanged Man's regulars piped up.

The Guard Captain inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. When she finally calmed her frustration, Aveline scanned her surroundings. Half of the Lowtown market had turned into a complete mess; several merchant stalls were damaged or overturned completely. She had heard the report from the guards on duty that over twenty people became involved in the fight from what started off as a duel, and then the bar brawl piled out into Lowtown. All thanks to these two rowdies.

Ena, at least, seemed to be a bit penitent. Isabela, on the other hand, was winking shamelessly at her. Aveline was about to order her men to take the rogues to the Keep, when Ena interrupted her.

"Aveline, er, Guard Captain, can I change my clothes before we go?" the redheaded rogue asked as she offered a lame smile.

So this was actually her reason of penitence. Aveline knotted her eyebrows and looked over her shoulder briefly, then turned back and barked an order. "To the Keep!"

"_Bollocks_," Ena swore under her breath.

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><p>After spending the past two weeks in the brig, Isabela and Ena were released under the forceful demand from Aveline that they make a promise not to duel on public property again. The two rogues walked silently toward Lowtown, both lost in their own thoughts.<p>

"You know sweet thing, we never did find out the result," Isabela said, breaking the silence.

The smaller girl whipped her head to look at the pirate, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "A rematch, then?"

"You say the sweetest things, love," Isabela purred as she slung her arm over her friend's shoulders.

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><p><strong>AN: Title is from a song of Arctic Monkeys. It's about being young and all ****excitement of youth, or something along that line.**


	3. Sympathy For Lady Vengeance

This chapter is a sequence of previous chapter, our little Ena had her vengeance. Though it can be read as stand-alone as well. It is very long, because these crazy lot just can't stop talking. Sorry for that!

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Any kind of reviews mean so much to me, so if you have something on your mind about my story, please let me know. I'd love to hear from you my dear readers!

Massive thanks to FenZev as usual, for being my wonderful beta reader!

EDIT: A small fix on some dialogues.

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><p><strong>Sympathy for Lady Vengeance<strong>

It was a regular night at the Hanged Man, a gathering of Hawke's dysfunctional family. It was also the time for everybody to catch up with each other, to listen to Varric's wild tales or to watch Anders and Fenris bickering about mage and templar issues while playing Diamondback or Wicked Grace. Some nights Aveline would join their merry band of misfits if she could remember to actually _live _like normal people. And most nights Isabela would retire from the game before the last hand to do something or, more often than not, _someone_.

Tonight, they just finished listening to Hawke brief them on tomorrow's job at Sundermount. It was still quite early, so everyone agreed to play a few hands of Diamondback. Varric expertly shuffled the cards and dealt everyone a hand as per usual, except for Anders and Merrill, who were happy being spectators. After a few hands, Hawke noticed that a certain rogue seemed different - not her usual self. Normally, Ena would be trading playful barbs with Varric and Isabela, or pestering Fenris with some bad jokes. But not tonight. The girl in question just kept staring at the entrance. _N__ow that__'__s odd_.

"You seem to be too quiet today, Ena," Hawke stated. "Is there something wrong?"

The sudden question shot at her nearly made Ena jump, but she managed to keep her wits about her.

"No, nothing," answered the girl. Ena tilted her head a little. "Why? Can't I just be nice and quiet?" Ena countered to the mage, earning a raised eyebrow from the brooding elf who sat next to her. Ena saw Fenris' expression and stuck her tongue out at him.

Varric did not let the chance slip out of his grasp; he decided to chime in immediately. "The Archdemon would invite the Grey Wardens to its tea party the day you were nice and quiet, Bonfire." The dwarf's joke was accompanied by his loud laugh.

On Ena's other side, Isabela draped one arm around the younger rogue's shoulders and leaned closer to her ear. "There's no fun in being quiet, Puffling. I prefer a screamer." The pirates whisper was hardly that quiet, causing the redhead to blush as she was certain everyone else had heard.

Fenris coughed. "Can we get back to playing Diamondback?" asked the elf, with Hawke muttering her _very rare_ agreement with the elven warrior.

Isabela smiled at him lecherously but drew her arm back from the other girl's shoulders. As they were about to begin another hand, the card players were interrupted by the sudden sound of a sickly romantic tune. All eyes at the table turned to the source of the music. A band of musicians entered the tavern, led by none other than the Bad Poet. The crowd drifted apart to allow room for the leader and his group. The Bad Poet gave the musicians a signal to stop playing their song right as they reached their destination. Hawke and her friends couldn't be more surprised when the Bad Poet stopped right in front of Isabela, who bore a shocked look on her face.

"Isabela! My dusky goddess," the Bad Poet said, as he sank to one knee in front of her, a stupid wide smile on his face. "Please accept my humble reciprocal, passionate love for you." He then produced a bunch of red roses, neatly tied with a matching red ribbon and presented it to the pirate. Her expression had changed from shock to fury, while her friends all exchanged glances.

"What in the Maker's name …" Hawke uttered quietly to the scene that staggered her.

Isabela massaged her forehead. "Reciprocal? Have you really lost your mind, you bugger?" she asked angrily.

The Bad Poet was taken aback, Isabela's harsh words erasing the smile from the man's face. "But, you sent the letter to me and said that-"

He was interrupted as Isabela snapped. "What bloody letter?"

The Bad Poet's eyes widened, and slowly he retrieved a folded parchment from his coat pocket and shakily handed it to her. Isabela snatched the letter, unfolded it, and began to read. Her eyes quickly scanned the contents of the letter, all the while her face remaining impassive. Everyone held their breath as they waited for her to finish, except of course for Varric, who was busy scribbling everything down on his small notebook.

Suddenly Isabela had her dagger at the poor man's throat. "Lucky for you that I'm in quite a jovial mood today." Isabela shifted her dagger with its tip now pointing under the Bad Poet's chin. "Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience!"

The Bad Poet dropped the rose bouquet on the floor hastily, and scrambled away after the trail of his hired musicians. Isabela picked up the bouquet, turned it around as if to admire the beauty of it - even though her expression showed otherwise. The pirate then stood abruptly, which startled everyone at the table. For several heartbeats she remained in that fixed position, and none of the others dared to speak, waiting for her next move.

They didn't have to wait long, as she suddenly threw the flower bouquet on the table in anger.

Varric, always the quick witted one, tried to break the mounting tension in the air. "Sorry, Rivaini. We only accept bets of sovereign or silver." He was successful in lifting the mood at the table, as everyone laughed, and finally Isabela returned to her seated position.

"Tell that to the Bad Poet," Isabela groused. "What a useless git."

Ena tried her best not to laugh, _much_. "His head is full of ridiculous lines for his pitiful poetry and an image of his beautiful _Dusky Goddess_, Isabela. I doubt he has room to listen to anyone else." The younger rogue patted her friend's shoulder empathetically.

Isabela swatted Ena's hand away and narrowed her eyes dangerously in her direction as Ena failed miserably at stifling her laughter. "Somehow I know you are behind this Kit," Isabela stated.

Ena gasped dramatically as she feigned innocence. "You wound me Isabela. Why would I do such thing?"

Isabela's sharp eyes and her apprehension of the girl's antics did not fail her, as she noticed a mischievous gleam in the young rogue's eyes, as well as a hint of a sly smile on her lips.

Hawke sighed. "Considering how often you two pull pranks on each other, I'd say you have so many reasons to do."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, O Mighty Leader." Ena pouted, before addressing the pirate again. "I don't understand why you're so mad Izzy dear." Isabela held two fingers up to the red-headed rogue in response; the pirate hated it when someone called her Izzy. Ena dismissed her insult and continued. "You got a bouquet of beautiful red roses! It is a very nice sentiment. No one ever give me anything," she added with a whimper, exaggerating her saddened expression.

"I think you would rather have a bouquet of deathroot," remarked Fenris.

"True," the redhead chuckled. She then countered good-naturedly, "but more importantly, are you going to be the one to give me this bouquet?"

Before Fenris could respond, the other elf at the table gave her a response. Oblivious as always, Merill chipped, "but deathroot is so horrible! What about embrium? I know how much you like mixing things together with all sorts of ingredients. I bet you'll love it too. You can make many kind of potions from embrium. It is also beautiful and has a very nice smell!"

Ena snickered. "Sorry Merrill, you confuse me with Anders over there, which I find very offending." Her lips quirked amusingly at the blonde mage, to which Anders narrowed his eyes at her, but with a small smile curved at the corner of his mouth. Ena turned her attention back to the Dalish elf. "I like making poisons, not potions," she clarified.

"Oh. Right!" Merrill titled her head to one side. "But maybe you can add a little embrium essence into your poison, it may smell a little nicer!" Everybody busted into a laugh, and Merrill turned her head from left to right in confusion.

"I like the way you think, Merrill," said Ena, after she got her laughter under control.

Anders took a chance to lean in from his opposite seat. "You know Ena, learning to make potions is a good idea. We always need health and healing poultices."

The rogue pretended to consider his suggestion. It wasn't like she did not know how to brew a potion. It was inevitable for her to learn to make an antidote too, like any other good poison maker. The art of making potions was not that much different, if she had a mind to do it, that is. Back to the conversation at hand, she replied to their healer. "That depends, will you teach me Ser Mage?" Ena asked, grinning and batting her eyelashes at the mage.

Fenris huffed and eyed the mage rather menacingly. He noticed Isabela appraising him from his peripheral view, but he ignored her and averted his gaze down to the drink in front of him. It was a casual flirt and most likely just a joke, but still, the idea of Ena spending time with the mage was disturbing. Anders was a dangerous apostate, and Fenris did not trust the abomination to be in a company of anyone.

Isabela smirked briefly at the elf, and then jokingly berated the other two. "Stop flirting you two, unless you want me to join in," she finished with a wink at the mage.

Anders shuddered and hastily offered to order everyone a drink at the bar. The dark skinned rogue then turned her head to face her fellow rogue. "Why don't we get back to that awful shenanigan? Because I'm still mad at it!" She jabbed her finger at Ena. "You. Explain to me why that barmy Bad Poet had that stupid love letter from me!" The handwriting in that letter uncannily looked like her own, and its content also sounded awfully familiar, but she was never going to admit that out loud. "I can't remember ever writing such a cheesy letter, but even if I had, I wouldn't have written for that doofus. You made this bullshit up, didn't you?"

Ena wrinkled her nose. "Now 'made up' is such a harsh accusation, Isabela dear," she crooned, but the pirate yanked her hair angrily. "Ow! Alright," Ena tried to let her hair free from the furious pirate's hand. She rubbed her head at the painful spot. "Varric gave me some pieces of your 'friend fiction', and then we picked some parts, edited and popped them in the letter." Ena lifted her mug to her confidante. "Varric forged your handwriting, of course. He's such an artist!"

Varric tossed her an exasperated look. "Now is not a good time to recognise my calligraphic prowess, Flash," the dwarf muttered under his breath.

Isabela raised her eyebrows "You too, Varric? Such a bunch of back-stabbers I'm surrounding myself with." The pirate sighed and shook her head in mock distress.

"We just live up to your standards my dear Isabela," Ena voiced and hugged her sort-of mentor lovingly.

Hawke snickered. "I think you taught her a little _too _well, Isabela. You should be proud actually."

Isabela punched the mage's shoulder lightly in response. The rest of the group laughed, and despite being at a receiving end of this prank, Isabela laughed along with her friends.

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><p>The afternoon sun shone from a cloudless sky as Hawke and her companions brought their job to an end at Sundermount the next day. They managed to make the path clear of a group of raiders and Tal-Vashoth. Hawke and Merrill chatted away merrily at the front of the group while making their return journey. Sometimes they paused their strides briefly as Merrill pointed to Hawke some plants or flowers or butterflies.<p>

Varric walked behind the two mages. It was quite a lovely day and they finished their job fairly quickly, but Varric did not share Merrill's love of nature. His mind drifted away to the civilisation of the city and drinks at the Hanged Man. The dwarf was so lost in his thought that he did not realise that their small group was short one member. He walked back until he reached where the path bent at the corner. He then spotted the most shocking scene he had ever witnessed. In front of him, just a few metres away, Fenris was plucking a red flower from its stem.

"Well, well, wonders never cease! I've never classified you as the flower type, Elf."

Fenris was startled by Varric, and whirled around to face the dwarf who was strolling toward him. Hastily, he hid the flowers he had just picked behind his back. The elf tried to calm his anxiety but thought sulkily…_Venhedis__!__O__f all the people, it had to be this busybody of a dwarf_. Varric could see a blush spreading across the elf's cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. Fenris finally regained his composure, and at last he grunted, "one word, Dwarf. One word, and I will-"

He was interrupted by the dwarf, who held up both his hands. "Yeah, yeah, you'll go all glowy and rip my bleeding heart out of my chest. I know. Your adoring little secret stays safe with me, Elf."

The mischievous grin on the dwarf's face contrasted everything he had said, which made Fenris even more bristled. He gave the dwarven rogue a sceptical look for a brief moment. "Good, or else I will show you exactly how fast your heart can bleed."

Varric responded with a deep mocking bow that earned him an irritated look from the tattooed elf. The dwarf had always known the way to get under his skin, very much like that girl Ena; perhaps it was a rogue thing. After a moment of silence passed, the elf turned to walk away, but suddenly paused his movement. "And keep in mind that it's not going to be writing material for your story either," he said over his shoulder. Knowing Varric was a masterclass busybody, one couldn't be too cautious.

"Pfft, smart ass," Varric mumbled. The elf stormed away, but Varric noticed the way the broody elf tucked away the flower in his pouch with such care one would do to injured animals. A small smile pulled at the corner of Varric's lips; it was so fascinating to see that the angsty porcupine of an elf was capable of such a gentle action. The dwarf made a mental note to memorise this rare occurrence; the broody elf did not say anything about drawing, right? Hearing Hawke's voice calling for him from a distance, Varric followed the elf to join the other companions on their way back to Kirkwall.

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><p>Ena smiled to herself as she heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching her. She closed the book in her hands and looked up to greet the lyrium tattooed elf from her seat. "Good evening Fenris."<p>

The warrior snorted and walked into the room. "Do make yourself at home," he said as he sat himself down in the opposite chair in front of the fireplace. The flames crackled, radiating heat to warm the room.

The redheaded rogue giggled in response. She quietly watched the elf as he settled comfortably into his seat, enjoying the warmth of the fire. It had been three years since they first met, and after numerous occasions of her 'unprompted visits,' the elf felt more relaxed whenever he found her in his mansion by herself. His piercing green eyes met hers, which pulled her back to the present. Ena cleared her throat to hide her embarrassment at being caught daydreaming about all the times they had spent together.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" asked the elf. He started to remove his spiky gauntlets while waiting for her answer, which unsurprisingly never come.

The young rogue drummed her fingers on the armrests and gave him an impish grin instead. "You know, weird thing happened two days ago," she began, dodging his question. "My doorstep was miraculously blooming with a flower. How marvellous is that!"

Fenris crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow. "Perhaps you let that _w__itch_ come to your house too frequently," he said with a scowl as he mentioned the blood mage elf.

Undisturbed by his sudden foul mood, Ena felt amused at the abrupt change of his expression. "Don't you want to know what kind of flower it sprouted?" she asked.

Fenris could see the familiar teasing gleam in her eyes. He kept his expression indifferent, knowing that this little mischievous rogue was trying to gauge his reaction. Eventually he shrugged. "Why would I be interested in your magical flowers?"

Ena grinned even wider. "You probably wouldn't. But it's very interesting that there was embrium laid down on my doorstep shortly after that flower came up in our conversation back in the Hanged Man." She leaned closer towards the Tevinter elf. "Anyway, I appreciate your sentiment, Fenris."

Fenris' eyes widened slightly at her speculation. "I…how did you know?" he stuttered, but then his eyes flashed defiantly in realisation. "Varric, that nosey dwarf," Fenris muttered under his breath.

Ena laughed triumphantly and clapped her hands in delight. "So it was you, wasn't it? I was just taking a guess. I think if it was Merrill, she probably just gave them to me directly." She flashed him a cheeky grin. Fenris looked aside, his cheeks a little redden. The redhead's laughter died down when an acknowledgement struck her instantly. She raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute, you said something about Varric. Did he know about this too?" the rogue asked in incredulity.

Fenris sighed. "Sort of. He just so happened to have seen me plucking it while we were out at Sundermount."

"Oh this is good!" Ena laughed out loud, again.

"It warms my heart to know that you find my discomfort very enjoyable," the annoyed elf grumbled sarcastically in response.

Ena tried to school her composure but was far from success. "I can't believe he didn't tell half of Kirkwall already!" She stared at the elf for a moment, then an understanding dawned on her. Even the Maker could not stop Varric from telling his stories, especially one with such good material like this one. "You threatened him with bodily harm, didn't you?"

Fenris shrugged. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"Your virtue won't come to harm by me, Serah." The rogue bowed her head mockingly, then her face looked a little bit solemn. "And here's a little something to show my gratitude." She fished a delicate vial from one of her pouches and handed it over to him.

Fenris reached out for it tentatively. Though its contents looked less dangerous than what the rogue had normally done, he still couldn't quite trust the deep red coloured liquid inside the glass vial. Once it was in his hand, he carefully turned it around to examine its content. "What is this?" the elf asked tentatively.

Ena propped her arm up on the armrest and rested her head on her palm as she explained. "A mighty offense potion. Got the recipe from Lady Elegant. It's a mixture between embrium, elfroot, and spindleweed." Fenris nodded, and waited for Ena to give more details. "According to the recipe, it will work its way through your muscles and mind, thus heightening combat prowess for a time," the red-haired rogue elaborated.

The elven warrior observed her gift with satisfaction, and after a moment, he glanced back at her. "Honestly, you don't have to do this. I didn't expect anything in return when I decided to give those flowers to you."

His words were filled with such sincerity that it made her heart skip a beat. However, her roguish instinct kicked in. "Well, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were sweet on me, Fenris," she said as she smiled at him impishly.

A small smile tugged at one corner of the elf's lips. "Don't flatter yourself. I was just thinking about a way to prevent my house from more smoke and fire, that's all. This should've kept you busy for a while." But how wrong he was, as it only took her just two days to come up with this potion. Still, Fenris couldn't help but admire her talent in crafting.

Ena began a cheery protest. "But that smoke gives such a warm, lovely, cosy touch to your miserable excuse of a house!" In truth, Fenris did not mind his house being smoked anymore, as long as the rogue could keep it to the minimum within the space of the kitchen. They shared an amiable look for a brief moment, then Ena continued. "Anyway, don't make this a habit though. You're confusing me with your mixed signals."

Fenris straightened his back. "There's the limit of my insanity, rest assured," the elf replied sternly, but a curve at the corner of his mouth told differently.

Ena shook her head. "Living sanely in Kirkwall, that's a paradox, you know." She then flashed him with her infamous cheeky smile.

Fenris was the one who shook his head this time. "You always have to have a last line, haven't you?"

The rogue smile wider. "Oh, I'll outlive the Maker himself to throw a punchline, just wait and see!"

"You're unbelievable," he snorted.

However, that did not lessen her spirit. "Why, thank you!" Ena chuckled. Clearly his remark did not lessen her spirit at all.

"That's not a compliment," Fenris retorted. Though he was very sure that he wasn't going to win this squabble.

Ena winked and said, "I'm not picky."

The stern elf couldn't help but smile. He closed his fingers around the small vial, and considered trying it out on his next mercenary job. He also made a mental note to gather more herbs for his rogue friend.

* * *

><p>AN: The title was from a Korean film of the same name. Though their genre is hugely different, that film is completely not of this sort. The title just serves the chapter's theme quite nicely.


	4. Like a Halla

**AN: Hello! Is there anybody still here? Thank you everybody who's been reading/favouriting/reviewing my story, you guys are the best! I feel overwhelm.**  
><strong>I have no excuse in no updating for like eternity! This chapter though, it's a silly chapter stemmed from one of my sketch (on deviantArt web) which I received wonderful comments (you know who you are!) that can be a story. So here we are! Anyway, I feel obliged to warn you that it's unbeta'd so if you spot anything unforgivable wrong, weird or not even a decent language, please kindly notify me. I'll try my best to correct all the errors.<strong>  
><strong>Hope you enjoy! xx<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Like a Halla**

"Told ya darling. That ridiculous side fringe of yours is going to be in a way somedays." Isabela playfully chided her younger friend as she brushed now alarmingly shorten fringe of the redhead rogue.

"But I like it! And it comes in handy when I pickpocket or steal from the stalls. I can hide my face behind it." Ena exclaimed and swatted the pirate's hand away.

"Such an amateur act, that. I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pockets just by smiling at you." Interjected Varric, shaking his head. "But that's a lesson for another time. Now, ladies, kindly delight me what with this, uh, dashing look." The Dwarf continued with his quill and parchment at the ready. Ena huffed and crossed her arms. "All the usuals, Varric. A duel, daggers and Isabela's dirty trick."

"Isabela's dirty trick? Is that something about sex? It's always about sex with Isabela." Merrill's voice rang through as she entered Varric's suite, surprisingly with the white hair, lyrium marked elf in tow who scowled and grunted . "Shut up Witch." Merrill shot him a fierce glare but kept walking in to join the rogue trio at the table. Fenris followed but stopped short as he spotted the young rogue whose front part of her hair oddly cut short nearly to the roots. "What happened to your hair?" The elf inquired, his brows furrowed slightly with bemusement. Ena's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and tried to hide it by covering with her hand even though it was too late. She heard the dark skin pirate chuckled so she kicked her fellow rogue under the table. Isabela kicked back and wiggled her eyebrows at the red-headed girl.

"The tale is about to begin, Elf." Varric chimed in helpfully as Fenris sat down beside him. Varric beckoned the young girl to continue but the other rogue beat her to it. Isabela recounted how they started their routine head-to-head at the Wounded Coast. "Because Aveline threatened us that if we ever had a duel in the city again, she will lock us up in the Chantry instead of the Barracks and have Isabela wear a Chantry robe." Ena clarified, everybody bursted into laughter even Fenris let out a deep chuckle which was gone almost immediately.

"Joking aside, the Wounded Coast is a perfect place for the duel and I feel more relax when I'm nearer to the sea. Not that Big Girl's threat carries much weight." Isabela broke in. "And if there are some ill-lucked buggers like Raiders step in, that's a bonus." The Pirate smirked then continued her account of the event, with massive embellishment, naturally. The Rivaini rogue was narrating her deadly stunt when Ena finally interjected her. "And that's when you kicked the sand into my face and jumped at me. Good thing that I'm quicker, I managed to avoided your blades, missing my face by a hair's breadth. Literally slice off my hair. End of story."

"You should let me adding a little more plot twists before you killed my joys." The Pirate Queen grumbled and sat back deep in her chair. The redhead girl just shrugged at her. The sound of Varric's scrawling faded and the dwarf said to his hireling-turn-friend. "So Flash, seems like you need another blade work, ain't it?" Ena frowned and patted softly on her shortening hair. She always loved that hairstyle, at the moment it seemed everything looked odd without peeking through her fringe.

"Or we can go shopping for a hat!" Isabela squealed with excitement.

"There's a lovely hat shop in Hightown, right? I'd love to go there too!" Merrill echoed and clapped her hands merrily. Then the Dalish elf halted and tilted her head to one side as if suddenly think of something, her eyes widen in a few seconds later and blurted out. "Oh I forgot! I know a potion that can grow your hair over a night!" She turned to the red hair rogue. "I can brew it in a very short time. Do you want to try Ena?"

Ena contemplated the elf's offer then nodded her head. "All right, why not?" She smiled at the Dalish elf who beamed with pleasure. Despite her clumsiness and babble, Merrill was a very good herbalist and she always like the Dalish mage. Fenris who had been listening silently, suddenly went rigid and asked the rogue in a tight voice. "Do you trust her? It could be dangerous." The petite redhead shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "It's just a potion Fenris. What's the worst can happen?" Fenris shook his head in disbelief and muttered something in Tevene while Varric's chortling. "Famous last words kid!" The Dwarf added while Merrill squealed and babbled away to Ena about her potion.

"I'll go to that hat shop anyway." Isabela resolved.

….

Morning came with the chirping of birds, Ena woke up groggily, perhaps it was a side effect of Merrill's potion, the girl mused. The rogue tried to get out of bed but found her legs tangled with something she reckoned it to be a blanket so she sleepily pulled the fabric away. However Ena still struggled to get up, finally rolled out of the bed and thumped on the floor.

"Maker's balls!" Ena groaned and kicked her legs furiously to get rid of the accursed object. But the unfamiliar texture that touched her skin caused the rogue to looked down at her legs. The red-headed girl was shocked by the sight of her legs entwined with a mass of long red hair instead of a blanket. Slowly, she reached out to pulled the tress of hair away from her legs. She gave it a couple of tug, a pull at her head confirmed that this is definitely her own hair. She traced her eyes along the length of her long red hair from the lock in her hand and the rest that flowed over the floor. Without hesitation, Ena quickly grabbed a knife from under a pillow and started hacking her excessed hair forcefully. Half an hour passed, every inch of her floor was covered with scattered logs of bright red hair. Ena sighed with relief, tucked the knife away and got up to start her day, in more normal fashion. Just when she finally cleared up the floor, something out of ordinary was detected. "_Shit. This can't be good_." The rogue cursed inwardly. Her hair grew back immediately at an alarming speed in front of her very eyes . It also seemed to be longer than before. The girl stifled a scream that threatened to escape her mouth. After she could finally calm herself and considered the most logical resolution. Ena gathered a massive mass of her hair into a massive bundle, she needed to visit the Alienage.

….

When she knocked on Merrill's door and the elven mage answered, the thought of that the Dalish elf would greet her horror or terrified expression dissipated when Merrill greeted with a bright, joyful smile. "Good Morning Ena! I see your hair has grown back! That's wonderful!"  
>"It does not just 'grown back' Merrill. I have a hair monster on my head!" The rogue hissed and dropped the pile of her hair down furiously. It pooled around her ankles like a red stream of river.<p>

"But you look very lovely with long hair." The mage cooed and reached out her hand to brush the hair gently.

"Long?! You called the hair that can stretch across the Waking Sea long?" The redhead girl asked incredulously, her fists clenched. "And this fucking_ long hair _nearly breaks my neck!" Ena shouted furiously. "What more wonderful is, I cut it. And it grew back!" The fuming rogue continued her tirade. Merrill was taken aback, the elves around the square startled and looked at them with wary glance. "Sorry, Merrill." She mumbled an apology. Merrill nodded and sent a reassuring glance that there was no danger comes from this human to her fellow elves, they carried on what they had been doing.

"Is there anything you can do Merrill? I tried cutting it but didn't work." The red-hair rogue pleaded. But to her dismay, Merrill shook her head. "No. Sorry Ena. It's a potion not a spell, I can't reverse it." The rogue sighed, her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Maybe we should go get some help." The mage suggested. A moment passed, the rogue made up her mind-it was not as if she had so much choices-then gathered her hair up in her arms. "Obviously. Help me carrying this blight, would you?." Ena plopped a large bundle of her hair into Merrill's waiting arms. "I don't want to tumble down the stairs because of my own bloody hair again." She muttered.

During the rather difficult walk, they both settled that the Hanged Man was to be their destination. Going to Hawke's estate in Hightown was out of question after the tenth time they nearly toppled down the stairs and broke their collective necks in the process. It was fortunate for Ena and Merrill that the Hanged Man in the morning hours was relatively quiet. They managed to slip pass the bar without any accident or attracted any unwanted attention and head towards Varric's suite on the upper floor. Ena practically kicked the door opened and stormed into the dwarf's residential quarter. The sudden intrusion jolted Varric out of his sleep.

"By the Stone!" Varric cried out, blindingly reached for his beloved crossbow which sat gracefully on the mantle, far from his reach.

"Enough of your beauty sleep Varric! This is emergency!" The familiar voice of his favourite redhead (though he would never said this in front of Aveline as he liked living, very much) rang through. The dwarf tried to shake off his slumber. When his vision became clear, even though following Hawke around granted him many incredible experiences, but this scene before was still something to behold. "Now this I have to hear." Varric said expectantly while Ena dropped a bundle of her long red hair to the floor unceremoniously with a soft thud, the action was echoed by the Dalish standing beside her.

….

"What did I tell you kid? Famous last words." The Dwarf shook his head slowly, but Ena could detect a sound of humour in his voice. She scowled at him which encouraged Varric to go for a full fit of laugher. They were sitting down at Varric's long table waiting for their mages-in-residence to show up, after Varric sent out his messenger to fetch them. Isabela joined her fellow rogues just a moment later.

"Come now, stop frowning. We already have our Broody Elf doing that. Enough for a lifetime, I'd say." Varric chuckled while ruffling her too-long hair. Isabela flashed her a grin from across the table. "At least you will have a very clean floor." The dark skin rogue added. Ena shot her glance at the Pirate annoyingly. "This is you fault!" the redheaded rogue scoffed.

"Oh is that it? Did I stuff Merrill's potion down your throat then?" Isabela retorted right away. At the mention of her name, Merrill who kept quiet for the most part of the conversation, spoke up meekly. "I've been thinking. Maybe the effect in human is different. I thought it would be all right because we've been doing this all the time. And there was one winter that-"

"Wait. What do you mean 'in human'? Is this the potion only for an elf?" Ena interrupted the elf's babbling. The Dalish Elf shook her head. "No, it's a potion for Halla. Some Winters, the climate was so harsh we had to feed them this potion. It helps speed up the growth of their fur to keep them warm and produce more fur for our clothes." Merrill rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

Everybody groaned in unison.

….

"It's not a physical injury that I can heal nor I can sense any harm to your body. I'd say let's wait until the potion wear off. But do come to my clinic immediately if you notice something wrong." Stated Anders when he finished diagnose the redhead.

Ena muttered. "What could be more wrong than this."

"Maybe wait for a few days then try cut you hair to see if the potion still has its effect." Said the other mage, when Hawke saw the petite rogue still brooding so she added. "Let's see this way, it could be worse, if the potion didn't effect for just the hair on your head."

The rogue cringed as the mages bid their goodbye.

"I can help braid your hair Ena, so you can move around." Merrill offered, Isabela immediately jumped in to help. "I'll help too! This can be fun!" They both clapped their hands gleefully, ignored a dubious look from the red-haired rogue. "You girls' definition of fun is quite far from mine." Varric commented on Merrill and Isabela's fuss over a hairdo, Ena sighed and agreed. "My thought exactly." Varric chuckled and got back to his writing, then he stopped and spoke up to her. "I don't think you should let the Elf know about this. Who know how he'll react, he might think Daisy used blood magic on you." Merrill who was combing the petite rogue's hair paused and started to chime in. But the certain elf who they were talking about choose that immediate moment to pop into Varric's suite before anyone could say anything further. Fenris stopped short when he saw what was going on before his eyes. Everybody in the room went rigid, no one dare to speak or even move. However, instead of glowing blue, enraging or threatening to rip the heart out of poor Merrill, the tattooed elf just stared at the redhead silently.

The rogue took his silent as his disapproval, she huffed. "Don't you dare give me that 'I told you so' speech." The petite rogue glared at him sideway, arms crossing over her chest. Still no word from the elf, she fully looked at his face and saw that the elf's face bore a faraway look, his eyes in distance like he was somewhere else. To her worry, his face even went pale. Ena stood up and walked to the elf.

"Fenris, are you all right? You look like you saw a ghost. Do I look like a ghost?" The rogue asked nervously. But Fenris couldn't hear, he could only see; his eyes focused at the red hair which flowing over the girl's shoulders, in fact, it was flowing over her back, her legs and down to the floor - but in his head, there were flashes of long red hair in the bright sunshine, a cheery laugh filled the air. Warmth and a scent of spices. As abrupt as it came, the visions vanished. He felt suffocated. "I…I need to go." The elf uttered and disappeared from the room with everybody's eyes watched after him.

"Is Fenris really averse to long hair?" Asked Merrill to no one in particular.

….

It took a whole week until the potion wear off, after the first few days Ena tried cut it to a shoulder length, the hair grew back overnight but it did not grow overly long like in her first try. Merrill and Isabela all complained that they had nothing fun to do anymore. So the red-hair rogue told them to drink the Halla potion themselves. They both then stopped bothering her.

Varric paused polishing Bianca (those Void-taken slavers did spread a lot of blood-not that he wasn't happy about getting rid of them) when Ena, with her usual hairstyle, walked into his suite. The girl casually sank down on the chair opposite him and kicked her feet up on his table. "Hey, feet off the table, you little tinker!" Varric chided. "Watch your manner in front of the lady." The Dwarf stroked his half-polished crossbow lovingly. "Bianca's been living with you, in this very tavern, this long, I think manner is bollocks." The rogue gave him a flippant remark. "Language too, what should I do with you." Varric sighed, shaking his head. Ena quirked an eyebrow at him then they both laughed.

"So what's an urgent errand you want me to run for you, or spying on whom?" Asked the redhead. The Dwarf put his crossbow down onto the table gently. "Not an errand or spying this time. I have something to show you." Varric good-naturedly replied then pushed a pile of papers towards her. Ena put her feet down and reached for the papers. She started reading at the first few paragraphs. Brows knotted, she looked up at the dwarf. "What's this Varric?" But the dwarf waved his hand signalling her to continue reading. So she kept reading. It was a manuscript of his latest story; a story of some silly princess with massively long hair being locked up in the tower. Then there was some equally silly prince who used her hair as a ladder for climbing up to the princess. He saved her from the witch who captured her in that tower. Ena reached to the end of the story, needless to say, they lived happily ever after, just like Varric's other tales. She tossed the manuscript on the table.

"So?" Asked the dwarf who was looking at her expectantly.  
>"Bullshit, that what it is." Came her reply. "Why she had to wait for a prince to help her get out of the tower by climbing up her hair? She could simply tie the end of her locks to something to anchor it, then climb down herself." The rogue added.<p>

Varric scoffed. "You have no imagination and very unromantic at that." He reached for the manuscript, packed it away and resumed cleaning Bianca. Ena snorted. "Well, I'm glad that my predicament can inspire you so." Retorted the girl, sarcastically.

"That's why I'm the greatest storyteller, Kiddo." The Dwarf grinned.

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><p><strong>Well, I guess you know that Varric's story is actually you-know-what fairy tales. I just thought it'd be fun that Varric would romanticise this little chaos into a fairy tale. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you ;)<strong>


	5. D is for Dangerous

**A/N: I'd like to express my gratitude to all the reviews, followings and favourites. It really warms my heart. Bless you all xx**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

**D is for Dangerous**

The sun barely came up the horizon when Fenris slowly stirred from his sleep. Still with his face down on a pillow and his eyes closed, however, he was alert to the presence of someone else in his room. Fenris reached under his pillow for a hidden knife, trying to move his hand as little as possible. Finally he grabbed a knife and threw it with such speed that his movement was a motion blur. He caught the sight of red and green colour perched on the window sill across from his bed when the blade flip through the air to that direction. The knife narrowly missed his target. The tip of the blade pierced into the wood material of window frame, its handle trembled dangerously.

"Good morning to you too!" His frequent visitor greeted him cheerfully from her position, undisturbed by the offending object that just missed her head only a few inches. Fenris sat up on his bed and rub his face with his hands.

"When will you learn how to use the door properly?" He looked up to ask the red hair rogue with a frown across his face. It was very early in the morning, the sky outside his window was painted with the pale orange colour of the slowly rising sun. Yes, way too early to entertain an uninvited guest.

"Properness is boring." Ena wove her hand dismissively at him then peered at the embedded knife just inches away from her head.

"You're slipping." She pulled the knife from the window frame and slid off the window sill. As the girl step closer into the room, she sniffed the air around her. "No wonder why. Your room smells like a brewery." Fenris grunted in response. He snatched a blanket away from his lap and swung his legs off the bed while Ena was looking around the room. Then she spotted a dry stain of red wine spattered on the wall at the far end and some brownish glass shards on the floor beneath it.

"I see you 'redecorated' your wall again." An amused smile tugged at her lips.

"The wall had it coming." The elf replied nonchalantly and got up off his bed. Fenris walked over to the rogue who was playfully tossing a knife into the air and catching it. Fenris grabbed a knife by the tip with his fingers when it was in the air. He threw it carelessly onto his bed, the knife flopped down on the rumpled mattress. Even standing with his back slightly turned towards her, his sharp elven ear still heard Ena muttering the words '_show off_' under her breath, Fenris snickered quietly. He indeed had slipped a little bit about that throwing knife but this thing could happened if one drowned himself with uncountable amount of alcoholic beverage. He shouldn't drink that much. It could be very dangerous - deadly dangerous, if his intruder was slavers or hunters sent by his former master instead of this eccentric petite rogue. Scowling with his recklessness, Fenris abruptly made his way to the corner where he arranged as a makeshift washbasin. He splashed cold water vigorously on to his face, it cleared his head a little and erased that unpleasant thought about his former master.

"So what was the joyous occasion for such festivity?" The rogue's voice rang jovially from behind, if she noticed his ill mood, she chose to ignore it. Fenris looked for some clothes that clean enough to dry his face and it, _miraculously,_ hit him square in the face. He grunted and pulled the cloth off of his face. Naturally, the rogue seemed to be happy with her doings, a chortle threatened to escape her lips. Fenris ignored her and continued to dry his face.

"Well?"

He discarded the cloth and went for his armour stand which was, like many things in his room, a makeshift. "To celebrate my peaceful night which I wished it would last to the following day. How wrong I was." The elf started put his armour on. It seemed he was going to have an early start today. Kirkwall had been uncharacteristically calm for quite a few years since they had returned from the Deep Roads Expedition. Not entirely of course, with just some muggers or ruffians here and there (and not to mention some 'accidental chaos' caused by Kirkwall infamous rogues, one of which standing right here in his very room). But there was nothing much to do, he had to admit it was relatively boring. Probably that's why he ended up raiding the wine cellar last night.

"Pft, peaceful is overrated. I know you are bored. It's written all over your face. Such a pity, it mars your impressive brood." Fenris shot her an irritating look which was returned with a grin, one of a sort that likely to drive him up the wall-especially when he still had some dull ache lingered in his head.

"You spend too much time with the Dwarf." He muttered and snap shut the last strap of his gloves more forceful than necessary.

"Awww. Don't be jealous, Fen. Now that you're all dressed up nicely, how about I take you on a date!" The young rogue added with a wide smile that quickly turned into a giggle when the elf scowling at her. He was not quite sure which one irked him the most, accused, albeit jokingly, of being jealous or the last bit about 'on a date' but neither was the area that he felt accustomed to. Anger, rage, wariness: these were in his territory. Fenris decided to let the subject dropped, however, he suspected that by saying 'on a date' it would mean that the rogue would spending most of the day gathering what she could use for making grenades or poisons, or whatever she's up to.

"Is that why you harassing me this early? To drag me out for your scavenging?" He crossed his arms. Actually, getting out of this dreadful city was far better than hunch up in this run down mansion. But he would rather shake hand with Anders, than letting this rogue know that he secretly glad to go out there, wherever it was. "Why don't you go bother the others?" The elf enquired.

Ena just shrugged her shoulders. "Varric has some business to wrap up, probably about those treasures from the Deep Roads. Isabela is not in her room at the Hanged Man. My guess is that she's at the Rose which I _really_ don't want to find out." She finished the last bit of her reply with a slight shudder. Fenris silently agreed with her. "So it goes to you, my ever delightful elf-friend. We probably get rid of a group of slavers or two in a process." She paused, waiting for his reaction. When the elf stayed impassive, she then added,"Unless you have better things to do like mastering your broodiness or having an afternoon tea with all those corpses." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, however, all the reaction she could goad from him was a single raised eyebrow, her face fell almost immediately. Fenris was enjoying see the normally happy-go-lucky rogue looked crestfallen. The girl looked side way, shoulders slumped and said in defeat, her voice shook slightly. "Alright, if you don't want to go, that's fine. I can go there alone, wandering and fighting all those ruthless slavers on my own." She sighed dramatically. Fenris rolled his eyes, _She really does spend too much time with Varric. _

"Fine." He grunted irritably. Ena clapped her hands and squealed with delight. "Off we go then!" The rogue then walked toward her entrance and jumped off the window and landed gracefully like a cat. "Hurry up Fenris! You're so slow this morning!" She looked up and waved at him.

Fenris let out a deep sigh.

_What did I get myself into this time._

* * *

><p>It didn't take too long when the unlikely pair encountered their first group of opponents. They were ambushed by well-armed raiders. The rogue and the warrior sprang to action, smoking bomb were kicked out and smashed directly square on the leader's forehead. Fenris sprinted to the group of raiders when the smoke started to fade out, he swung his greatsword at the first attacker. The rogue launched herself into the fray shortly afterwards. They both worked well together as a team, Fenris cut down their opponents with his greatsword, while Ena defended them with all kind of her homemade bombs and fended off with her double daggers when such occasions arose. The redhead seemed to have a great fun experimenting on her explosive devices. Some of them were those of he had never seen before: <em>well, that explained the mysterious unpleasant stench in his mansion few weeks ago<em>. This girl had odd affection to dangerous things but she was very commit to her cause. Over years, the rogue had turned his kitchen into her mad workshop. There were burn marks everywhere and numerous stains of poisons and antidotes.

Their last enemy dropped to the ground with a short knife embedded in his right eye socket. Ena tilted her head to admire her handy work with a cheeky grin flashed on her face.

"Well, that was fun." Ena casually strolled to retrieve her knife. She pulled the knife and cleaned the blade on the poor bugger's shirt then turned to Fenris. "Why you never bring me with you when you have a job outside Kirkwall with Hawke?"

The elf shrugged. "Because it was a job, not a stroll in the park where I can walk you on a leash."

"Hey! I'm not a dog!" She pouted her lips. Fenris smirked at the reaction he inflicted upon her. "Could have fooled me." The elven warrior rumbled dispassionately.

Ena narrowed her eyes at the elf. "Careful Elf, I know poisons, and more importantly, the location of your wine cellar." The girl threatened with that mischievous smile he'd grown accustomed to, Fenris just chuckled, barely noticeable but it was there. After Ena finished looting the bodies (an instruction from Isabela she kept close to her heart), the elf and the human carried on with their trek on the coast. Fenris knew the paths well like a back of his hands as Hawke asked for his help on the quests here numerous times. The open air and fresh breeze helped clear a dull ache in his head, killing those slavers and raiders massively helped too. An hour passed and there was no more encounters after the first group of raiders.

They walked in an amicable silence but he could sense her mild agitation, her quietness almost screamed out loud for his attention. He knew that she's formulating a question; he could see it in the way she chew her bottom lip slightly and how she subtly stole a glance at him. Finally he was the one who broke the silence.

"What?"

Ena seemed hesitate, only for a moment. "You haven't told me what happened back then, you know, that little accident with my hair. You looked so pale I thought you'd faint." She asked him in a casual but careful tone, tried not to press him. The elf was definitely not the type who wears his heart on his sleeve so he wasn't likely to start chatting about his feeling, except if it was something to do with mages and magic. Fenris stiffened and looked at the rogue beside him warily. He suspected that much, she'd been asking him about his odd behaviour in the Hanged Man for weeks. It upset and frightened him but he couldn't pinpoint that which part troubled him the most; the attack of sudden images (of his past before the lyrium marking?) flashed in his head or the way they suddenly evaporated before he could even grasp a sense of it. He was in such distress, so much so that he avoided visiting the tavern or go anywhere near Lowtown for a week.

"I didn't tell you then, why should I tell you now?" Another dodge that he poorly delivered in response to her question which he could tell that it was out of concern rather than an inane prodding. He felt like a coward but this uncertainty still plagued his mind and he couldn't even form an explanation for this. It pained him a bit to see that this had upset her as well. He had a feeling that she might think somehow it was her fault. The rogue saw an uneasiness that cloaked around the elf, _not that Fenris never walked around without one though_. So she tried to change the mood. _And all this seriousness was never my cup of tea, rather go with the good old silliness, that's never get wrong_.

"If it is a secret, rest assure. Your secret is safe with me." The rogue whispered rather conspiringly. Fenris gave her a sideway look with an eyebrow raised, glad for the change of an event. "You steal and sell secrets for a living." The elf emphasised dryly. Ena stopped short and pretended to gasp, accompanied by a mocking gesture of one hand pressed on her mouth. "Messere, you wound me!" The wide eyes were thrown into the mix of a mock-offense, then she resumed her walk. "Though I prefer the term 'acquiring information." The girl finished with an impassive resolution but the wriggling eyebrows contradicted all of her mock seriousness. Fenris could only response with a snort.

* * *

><p>When they finally reached his mansion, it was late in the afternoon. They were all tired, thirsty and hungry from the walk and a few fights with raiders and slavers. Even the cheery, though reckless, vivacious rogue wasn't quite in her usual jovial mood.<p>

"What a waste of time! We practically circled around the Wounded Coast, but found only a handful of glitterdust and a few elfroots." Ena slumped heavily on the armchair once they entered his chamber. Her half-full sachet was dropped unceremoniously on the table in front of her. Fenris settled himself in his usual seat opposite the one occupied by the redheaded rogue.

"I suggested that we should go look in the caves, didn't I?" He stated flatly. Ena frowned at him. "No, I definitely won't go into those creepy caves…if there's a cave, there're always nasty big spiders that love to swoop down on you."

Fenris raised his eyebrows. "You do your own homemade grenades but you're scared of spider swooping down on you?"

Ena levelled his gaze. "Yes, Fenris. Haven't you heard? Swooping is bad."

Fenris shook his head and reached out for a pitcher to pour the water for him and his guest. He slid one tumbler across the table toward the rogue who happily accepted it and drank in a big gulp. Ena sighed contently while put down her tumbler. "Isn't it wonderful if you had a butler or housekeeper? After a tired day you just enter your house and there will be drinks or snacks waiting for you." She started chatting joyfully after a refreshment, even if it was only a water.

"And how would they react to the corpses that littered the hall?" Fenris asked sardonically. "Hmm.." The rogue hummed nonchalantly and picked up a tumbler to finished her drink. He nearly missed those signature mischievous sparks in her eyes over the rim of her tumbler, the one which promised a foreseeable chaos.

_Here we go again_.

* * *

><p><strong>The title is a song from Arctic Monkeys, my fave band. This chapter took place a few weeks later from the last one. Hope you enjoy. All reviews, comments are more than welcome as per usual.<strong>


	6. Poison Mist is in the Air

**Chapter Six**

**Poison Mist is in the Air**

Of course if there was some 'unfortunate' incident like fires or leaked poison happened in the city, the guards would suspect as her doing, followed by a custody almost immediately. It wasn't like she did all that on purpose! They were accident, like that fire in the market. She just demonstrated to the roasted nug merchant how to build a fire more efficiently. Then everything was out of control-damn that wind! Ena thought sulkily in Guard Captain's office. Aveline, the Captain kindly reminded her of her 'criminal record' that everything didn't look good for the red hair rogue at all. 'Criminal Record,' surely that was preposterous! The annoyed girl kicked at the nearby wall in frustration which prompted the said guard captain to abandon her paperwork and look up at her sharply.

"Might I remind you again that your record already looks bad, no need to add up another charge of vandalising the property." Aveline sat back in her seat, one eyebrow raised.

"Like it would make any difference, this place is not that impeccable. Who knows what those filthy guards bring in." Ena grumbled under her breath but stilled her legs under another redheaded woman's scrutiny.

"What was that?" Crossing her arms, Aveline waited for the answer with all pretend calmness.

"I told you Aveline, it wasn't me! That poisonous gas is not of any formula that I recognise." The young rogue exasperated. She had been saying this repeatedly but the red hair captain in front of her was as headstrong as those silly myths about redhead said. From what she heard, Guardsman on duty reported about the green mist that had spread in a Lowtown side alley. It was very deadly. The gas effected the mind of those unfortunate soul that inhaled it and the subject go mad or vomit violently before death claimed them. Wouldn't she pay handsomely for the formula?! But best kept this thought to herself, didn't want to give the Guard Captain's knickers another twist.

"The guards on patrol saw you lurking near the location only minutes before the poisonous green mist spread in the area." The captain pressed on.

"So as many Lowtowners who live there! And I wasn't lurking!" The rogue was fuming, threw up her hands but with them still bound, the action could't convey her frustration quite properly. So she added feet stomping for a good measure. "Why is it just me who's the suspect?" Ena asked pointedly to which Aveline said nothing but grabbed a stack of complaint files against her (all of which was a misunderstanding of course) to prove a point instead. Before Ena could give the Captain a piece of her mind, one of the city guard burst into the office panting heavily from his sprint all the way from Lowntown.

"Captain! Messere Hawke…she…she's entering the scene, ser! W…we tried to stop…but…Maecon is guarding the scene, I thought…I sh…should…" Guardsman Vickers stammered through his wheezing. Aveline cut him short with her hand gesture, allowed the young man to regain his breathing and stood a little straighter. Hiking up Maker knows how many sets of stair from Lowtown up to Hightown in a full armour was not fun at all, Ena almost felt sorry for the guardsman, almost. Her attention returned to Aveline who was frowning with fingers rose up to pinch her nose bridge. A moment passed, Aveline squared her shoulders and faced the guardsman to issue her command. "Back to your post, Guardsman. I'll handle this." Guardsman Vickers bowed to his superintendent in an act of subordination.

"Can I go now?" Ena asked from her seat. The Captain fixed her green eyes at the other girl's blue ones. "You stay here until I undertake a full interrogation with Hawke." Aveline geared up her arms while ordering a pair of guardsman who stationed in front of her office to keep an eye on the detention.

The rogue scoffed. "Your realise that I can unlock this pathetic set of manacles, right?" She raised her bound hands up just to emphasis her derision as the Captain was about to leave her office. However, her opponent was not an easy prey for the bait.

"Stay still, or I'll charged you with illegally using one of Hightown residence as a chemical lab." Came the Captain's retort.

"You wouldn't!" Ugh! Now she was the one who rose to the bait. This was utterly infuriating! The petite rogue suddenly had an urge to kick the wall again.

"Then don't give me a reason to." With that, Aveline departed. Ena swore she could see that blasted stern Captain smirking a little before she disappeared entirely from her view.

….

All the canisters were sealed off and the Elven Fanatic and her lackey were taken care of, Hawke let out a heavy sigh of relief as she felt a wave of warm healing magic from Anders washed over her. "Thank you Anders." Hawke thanked her fellow mage gratefully. The blond mage gave her a wide smile as warm as his magic in return. "My pleasure, Hawke." In her periphery, she was quite sure that Varric was snickering and Fenris was rolling his eyes. What a group she had! Shaking her head and let the matter drop. Hawke told her companions to search the bodies for any information that could link these zealots to the invisible hand behind this tragedy, namely Mother Peatrice. Finally, she found a scroll in the possession of the Elven Fanatic. But when she unrolled and scan the paper, it was not what she was looking for. It turned out to be an Arcane Poison recipe. Why would the crazy elf who wield a greatsword have this with her? Nothing made sense any more in this city, it seemed. She nearly threw the scroll away but suddenly changed her mind. The mage re-read the text more carefully.

"Hmm this is very interesting, a poison that weakens the ability to resist magical effects." Fenris heard Hawke murmured to herself from behind his back. Then he heard her footstep as she approached him. The elf looked up to see that Hawke was handing him a scroll. "Here Fenris, take this. See if that little fire of _yours_ can do something about it." There was a hint of teasing in her words and a slight grin at one corner of her mouth. He was convinced that this was not a hallucination caused by a saar qamek. Furthermore, the way that Hawke stressed on the word 'yours' had not gone unnoticed to him. He scowled and the mage had the audacity to wave the scroll playfully in his face. Fenris snatched the offending object grudgingly from Hawke's hand. On top of that, he could hear both Varric's and Anders' chuckle in the background. He shot them a fierce glare before they all followed Hawke to the exit where Aveline was waiting for them. Displeasing oozed out of her posture, plain to see from afar. The Captain strolled forward to meet the team half-way.

"What's the situation, Hawke?" Aveline demanded in her Guard Captain authority voice. If Hawke was offended by it, she didn't let it show. Hawke always played out with her diplomacy skill first, but could be charming or sometimes even in an aggressive nature should the occasion arise. Their leader debriefed the Guard Captain; right from the Viscount's summoning, the meeting with Arishok, traced the fault trail to Javaris Tintop who was being set up for the stealing of gaatlock formula which turned out to be a ploy; the formula was actually for a poison green gas called 'saar qamek.' An interrogation with the dwarf led them to a Lowntown side alley and the fights with the Elven Fanatic who was responsible for the poison gas, and her hirelings.

"I have a bad feeling that this is not going to be the end of if as far as the Qunari and the Chantry are concerned." Aveline shook her head, already a frown forming between her eyebrows.

"Me and you both, Aveline." Hawke offered a pat on her friend's shoulder sympathetically. Aveline nodded at her in kind. "Thank you for taking care of this mess Hawke, but I'll need you to come to my office and have an official report again Hawke, first thing tomorrow." Hawke dipped her head in silent acknowledgement.

"Now, I'll go back to the Barracks and release our suspect." Guard Captain announced as they bid their farewell.

"A suspect?" Hawke asked incredulously.

"A someone whose name come up in the same sentences with fire, explosion or poison, in short 'chaos', too often." The reply came with a deep sigh. They collectively understood who was the troublemaker the captain talked about.

After reporting the mission to the Arishok, they left the Docks on an unpleasing terms. Chaos was brewing, the Arishok looked like he was losing his patience. It would only take one more misstep, another unruly toe to cross the line. That when the shit was about to hit the fan.

Varric's voice rang in amidst their silent walk up to Lowntown. "Well, I don't know about you lot. But I for one, need a strong drink or ten to wash down this stinky gas out of my system." Anders chimed in. "As a healer, I suggest we should have a thorough scrub first, burn your clothes if you can. Otherwise give them a good cleaning as well." They all nodded in an agreement.

"Right. As Blondie says." Varric waved his hand as they all departed for their respective way. "See you at the Hanged Man in a bit then."

….

By the time that the Guard Captain cleared out her name from this stupid accusation, grumbling something about 'following the protocol' or some authority nonsense, the sun was slowly dipping down close to the horizon. Ena wasted no time to get herself out of the Barracks. Her rapid steps made a bee line to the Hanged Man. When she appeared at the door to Varric's suite, the jovial voice of the owner greeted her immediately. "Little Red! I heard you had another private tour at the Barracks led by our own Big Red, having fun? How many time was it already this month?"

Hawke snorted. "Seriously Varric? You, of all people, come up with those nicknames?"

"Yeah. How original." Ena drawled. She walked up to take her usual seat, to Varric's left. The red hair rogue grabbed a tankard of ale, presumably no one claimed that one yet. As everyone; Varric, Hawke, Anders and Fenris already had their tankards in their hands. Varric always ordered up plenty for all of his friends even when they had not arrive yet, in which case, this evening Isabela, Merrill and Aveline were absent.

"Hey! Give me a break will ya? My head still clouded with Qunari's gas." Varric protested indignantly.

Ena snickered then spoke abruptly. "Speaking of which, why Qunari always have good stuffs? They already have those wicked horns. Now you tell me they have a recipe for the most brilliant bomb which they won't share with others. Not to mention the poisonous gas too." She pondered for a moment. "Do you think they will let me join them?"

Fenris raised his brows. "You would convert to the Qun because of a grenade formula?" His question carried an incredulous tone.

"Why not?" Ena countered, head tilting to one side like a puppy: a puppy who apparently liked to play with explosion rather fetching a stick. The elf laughed inwardly with an image the rogue displayed. He did not respond but produced a scroll from his pouch and reached across the table to hand it to Ena. "Perhaps not the gaatlok formula, but you can have this instead." The redhead took the scroll and unrolled to examine the content. He watched her eyes moved methodically along the parchment.

"A poison recipe! For me?" Her wide blue eyes lit up with delight. "Awww Fenris, I didn't know you care." She teased him with a wide grin, the recipe trapped between her hands and her chest tightly.

Fenris shrugged. "It's Hawke's idea not mine." He waved his hand half-heartedly to the mage who sat beside him. Hawke shook her head disappointingly at the elf, almost unnoticeable, but she turned to smile at the rogue. "I presumed you'd enjoy doing it." Hawke said to Ena who grinned pleasingly and slowly walked over to her seat. "Of course I would! I should show my gratitude to you how much I'll enjoy it." To Hawke surprise, the girl grabbed her face with both hands and smacked a big kiss right on Hawke's lips. Anders sputtered his ale while Varric was scratching something furiously in his notebook. Fenris whose face remained impassive but looked stunned if his grip on the tankard was a little bit more tighten was any indication.

"Ooh this looks fun, can I join in?" Isabela who just popped into Varric's suite exclaimed gleefully at the scene before her.

….

**A/N: Aveline seemed very harsh here, but because she was doing her job! Though she might throw in some complaints during the dialogues with other companions, such as Fenris and Varric, she actually looked after everyone. In my story, she did that to Ena too. This chapter set at the beginning of Act II, obviously. With Ena's ability in poison and grenade as well as potion making, I think her role in Hawke's merry band could be a poison/potion/grenade maker, also occasionally an unwelcome tag-along ;)**


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